Black Butterflies and Deja Vu
by Simply Amaryllis
Summary: This is a response to the Song Title Challenge on . I was given the song 'Black Butterflies and Deja Vu' by The Maine, and the pairing Ginny/Theo. It was really fun to write and I hope that you enjoy it! Ginny looks back on the journey of her recovery, and more specifically, the role that Theo played in that journey.


**Hey all! So here is my response to the Song Title Challenge. I was given the song 'Black Butterflies and Déjà vu' by The Maine. I'd never heard the song before so firstly, I'm going to say that I really enjoyed both listening and writing for it. Secondly, I tried to focus on the meaning of the lyrics, from both my point of view with it being quite emotional and meaningful, and the artists of it focusing on emotions that are too much to express.**

 **So here we are! I was also provided with the pairing of Ginny and Theo. It took me a while to get an idea that I felt passionately about, but I really like where I took this and I hope that you do too!**

 **Anyway, I shall leave you to read – please leave feedback when you're done, I love hearing what you have to say!**

"Ginny? You ready yet?" A deep voice called out through the bathroom door. Said woman glanced at the watch on her wrist, noting that it was time to leave if they didn't want to be late. Not that it'd be that big an issue if they were late – dinner at the Burrow never started on time. There was always something or someone that wasn't present on time. But even so, she thought to herself as she applied one last coat of mascara, it would be rude to assume that tardiness would be acceptable.

With that thought, she opened the bathroom door and stepped through, almost bumping into her boyfriend of three years as she did.

"You look lovely." Said man, Theodore Nott, told her as they stepped apart so she could grab her coat and bag. They were apparating today as her parent's floo was disabled. It'd been the safest thing to do when it had started dragging in random objects when used, which were generally then flung out at the other end. Not only had this caused several injuries, but a few important and favoured items had gone walkabout as a result. The repair man was due any day, apparently. But until then, other modes of transport were a must.

"Thank you." Ginny responded as she focused on what the man had said and looked down at her outfit. It was just a comfortable pair of jeans and one of the soft sweaters that he and a few of their friends had given her for Christmas one year. Nothing grand. It was only dinner at her parent's after all. They had done it more times than she cared to count.

She was pulled out of her self-inspection when her hand was tangled with another. Theo smiled when he noticed her attention on her, placing a quick kiss on the dainty butterfly tattooed on her wrist, his own matching one visible from just under the cuff of his shirt.

The tattoos had been his idea, actually. When they'd first bumped into each other in that first year after the war, Ginny had been a mess. She'd lost her older brother, and he'd been such a loud presence. It was difficult for them all to get past the silences where his voice would have been. But he left so much more behind – the silences where before there would have been fury at his pranks; the genius ideas he could no longer have for the joke shop; and worst of all, George.

After the war, it was like George had died too. He was no longer himself – how could he be when the person he'd had with him his whole life had been taken. It was hell for Ginny, to see her family try and survive. On her worst days, she would wish for the war to be back again, if that meant they could have him. But that wasn't fair – so many people have lost their loved ones, and so many more would have.

And then there was Harry. Despite their closeness during the war, too much had happened between them. They soon came to realised that in order to be happy, they didn't need someone that had shared their own losses in such a literal manner. They, or at least Ginny, needed someone who would push her to grow and push for a better world. Someone that she could look at without memories of her mistakes being brought to mind.

So yes, Ginny had been a mess when she had first encountered Theodore Nott after the war had ended. At first, she had been surprised to see him – his family had tried to maintain neutral ground when tensions had started really building. Despite that though, Theo had still been caught in Hogwarts, unable to leave once the Deatheaters had taken over.

There wasn't any exciting tale to their romance, not really. They'd run into each other on the odd occasion, and Ginny would flash a hollow and tired smile as they exchanged pleasantries. But after a few of those polite and strained meetings, she felt herself relaxing and her smile becoming more real, if no less exhausted. The meetings became more routine from there, Ginny refusing to acknowledge that they both started turning up in places they thought the other might be, despite knowing how true it was.

After that, it seemed pretty easy to start actually planning these things, dates as she now recognised them to be, together. They went to the park, to dinner, even shopping for a writing kit at one point. The dates had slowly picked up in frequency, and Ginny could recall excitement slowly building each time.

Looking back at that time three years previously, it was clear to her that she and Theo were building themselves back up piece by piece. They had both known that the finished product was never going to be perfect, innocent, and without cracks, chips and ware. But that didn't matter to them, because Theo had helped her. Nobody else had been able to do that in the same way he managed to. She could be happy now, she had a life now, and truly, she saw herself with a good future rather than the sad and lonely, not quite real future that she'd seen before. She actually wanted this one.

That was where the tattoos came in. A black butterfly. In many cultures, such animals mean one of two things. The first was death. The second was rebirthing, rebuilding. It seemed perfect, Theo had told her. They had lost so many, both people close to them and not. But they were getting back on their feet. Theo, with his love of art, had felt that a black butterfly would be perfect. Would help with closure, as a sign of remembrance. And at first, Ginny hadn't been sure of the placement – the wrist seemed awfully similar to the awful brand that Lord Voldemort had burned into his followers skin. But then again, she had thought, didn't that make it perfect? Allowing such a beautiful creature to take the place where the mark had sullied so many. Once again, a sign of remembrance, and that they could move on and build better things where destruction had been.

The idea had caught on pretty quickly, and by the end of that first year the butterfly could be found on war survivors country wide. The black butterfly was the symbol of their sadness, their love and their strength to move on.

Looking down at her own tattoo, peeking out from the sleeve of her warm pale blue jumper, Ginny knew that the image held one more meaning for her too. It made her think of the man that had saved her by showing her that she had the power to control her future, and that she could be happy without forgetting. Something that meant more to her than words could ever have a hope of explaining.

Instead she would have to let the butterflies, and the comfort, warmth, home and familiarity of their love explain it for her.

"C'mon Gin, we need to go!" Once again, Theo's deep voice sounded out.

"Coming." She grouched good naturedly and walked through to the living room of their flat, where her boyfriend was stood at the door. He pulled her close, ready to leave and Ginny couldn't help but stop him, caught in the emotion of her recollections. "I love you."

He smiled, and repeated the words shared often between them, "I love you too."

Black Butterflies and Déjà vu would have to do.


End file.
